Crimson tears
by axabat
Summary: Weirdfic, very bizarre, elricest of course. I was born a virus.


Crimson tears.

by axbatwilo.

Weirdfic, elricest.

I don't own fma.

* * *

I was born a virus; you screamed and shouted, tore my eyes out and left me bleeding amidst the weeds of our garden. You slaughtered me with the unabashed strength of your hatred, yet I would lie if I pretended I didn't do the same to you. In all things we were identical, except in all those fundamental ways that oppose us. In all things you were first, and I was better.  
I think I triumphed time and again, but I have my doubts about the outcome. You didn't get much good out of it. I didn't either.  
I still remember how you used to scream and shout, stomp with your foot on the weed-covered ground, curse everything and everyone for all those things you wanted and could not have.  
I can still feel the knife you dug in my stomach where used to reside my courage and whatever other feelings I had left.  
You killed me so many times and now you're dead, and what's the truth to that? You killed me over and over again, but I'm never dead, just dying, and blood is sipping endlessly out of my eyes.  
I can see now the cracks in the storyline that should have told me we were going the wrong way. I can see, now that you handed me back my warped eyes.  
I told you I didn't hate you, but I did. Of course I did. How could I not, when I knew I was your cancer and you were forever my inexpiable crime?  
How could I not, when you were way too close for me to bear?  
How could I not, now that you've gone and left me all alone, to spill crimson tears on your spotless tombstone surrounded by our garden's weeds?

I was born a fairy; you whispered and sang, stroke my hand and left me dreaming under the warm blankets of our bed. You awoke me with the colourful melody of your laughter, yet you told me a thousand times I did the same for you. In all things we were together, except during those endless nights we both faced on our own. In all things you shone, and I admired.  
I thinks we were cheated by the world, but in the end we gained more than we lost. You were blinding again. Perhaps I was dazzling too.  
I still remember how you used to whisper and sing, speak of sweet truths and warm blankets to cuddle under, hope quietly and unceasingly for all those things you wanted to do with me.  
I can still feel the kiss you placed upon my lips seeping deep-down in my newly-formed stomach and leaving butterflies in its trail.  
You saved me so many times and now you're dead, and what's the truth to that? You saved me over and over again, but you can't save me anymore, now that I can't feel your hand holding mine.  
I can see now how the cracks in our storyline made us go the wrong way. I can see, hazily, through my tear-blurred eyes.  
I told you I didn't hate you, I never could. Of course I couldn't. How could I hate you when you were all that kept me alive, and you loved me more than anything?  
How could I hate you, when all I wanted was to touch you more?  
How could I hate you, when you came to me and gave me all that I'd ever dreamed of, and created a new sanctuary under the warm blankets of our bed?

I was born a disgrace; you sighed and mumbled, diverted your eyes and left me crying by the side of our childhood river. You injured me with the sharp indifference in your golden eyes, yet I suppose my stare was like the chilliness of winter to you. In all things we excelled except in all those tiny things that actually mattered. In all things you were a child, and I was even younger.  
I think we grew up too fast, but maybe we never really grew at all. You never understood what was important. I never bothered showing you.  
I still remember how you used to sigh and mumble, search grumpily for our childhood by the side of the river, expect in return all the things you thought you deserved but was denied.  
I can still feel the nothingness you made of me and that you were never quite able to fill up like you filled up your own stomach and your own feelings of want.  
You denied me so many times and now you're dead, and what's the truth to that? You denied me over and over again, but I carried on at your side, and I keep pretending I never saw the lies in your eyes.  
I can see now what caused the cracks in our storyline that led us along the wrong way. I can see, now that I finally close my eyes.  
i told you I didn't hate you, I may have lied. I don't know. How could I have said the opposite when the disgrace was me, not you, and you were already bent under weariness and heavy crime?  
How could I have known, when we both lost direction in our hatred for ourselves?  
How could I know, now that I die to join you in eternal peace, but curse you for taking away my sanctuary amidst a bed of blankets, my childhood by the side of a river, my last bloody tears on a spotless tombstone?


End file.
